


Under the Mistletoe

by Panickedpenguin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A scarf - Freeform, Canon Compliant, Christmas Party, Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe, Sharing a Bed, but not because werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27965186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panickedpenguin/pseuds/Panickedpenguin
Summary: Derek had only initially noticed the pause, the momentary silence that took over his loft. That was quickly broken up by giggles and whispers of “Look, look!” as the majority of the room turned towards him. Then, Derek smelled the holly, the fresh green and little red berries, the sweet note of red poinsettia, and he knew he didn’t even have to look up.A short and sweet Christmas story.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Derek Hale
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	Under the Mistletoe

The loft was lined in tinsel and soft lights, red and white bulbs hanging from the ceiling and every surface dressed in silvers and golds. There was a total of three Christmas trees, one over fifteen feet tall and decorated with precise intent, and two smaller trees brought in by the pack, splattered across with decorations from everybody and anybody. There was eggnog, mulled wine, spiced cider. There was ham, turkey and smoked brisket. The loft was alive with cheer.

The younger packmates all wore matching sweaters, the older all slipping wolfsbane laced booze into every drink. There was enough laughter to drown out your own thoughts, enough teasing to make you feel at home.

One such item of raucous entertainment was the bundle of holly and poinsettia leaves, enchanted to change location every so often, catching unsuspecting pairs for a mistletoe kiss. There had been a few kisses between crushes and established couples, a few more between friends who continued to act like it was the worst thing in the world, and some that simply surprised everyone.

“Hands to yourself!” The Sherriff yelled when a kiss was shared with an underage girl. “It’s about fucking time!” Scott groaned when the faux mistletoe landed over Stiles and Theo. “Do it! Do it!” A few people chanted when it was Lydia and Cora who were caught together in the doorway. But the most surprising of kisses that night had to be between Derek Hale and Chris Argent.

Derek was at the counter, sniffing over the drinks to find one that wasn’t doused in one liquor or another for Chris’ sake, who had just arrived with Isaac from France. He found a cider simmering in a crockpot that smelled only of cinnamon and Christmas, and ladled some into a mug that proudly stated ‘Mccall Is Queen’. Chris had sighed over the hot drink, cupping it in both hands when the holly and poinsettia landed right above their heads.

Derek had only initially noticed the pause, the momentary silence that took over his loft. That was quickly broken up by giggles and whispers of “Look, look!” as the majority of the room turned towards him. Then, Derek smelled the holly, the fresh green and little red berries, the sweet note of red poinsettia, and he knew he didn’t even have to look up. 

Chris, however, had to look up. He had to piece together for himself what the bundle of not-mistletoe meant, and he had to do it after a sixteen hour flight and three hour drive to get there. But it was simple enough to ascertain the situation once the hooting and catcalls started up around him. Chris took another long sip of his drink before turning to his fellow victim, prepared for the sincere dislike to be painted across Derek’s face. 

The thing though, about Derek Hale, is that he has grown into himself as a person. He planted his anchor securely in Pack and family, he had found a calm control in his mind and he learned how to forgive himself, what forgiveness even was at all. So when he thought about Chris Argent, the hunter who had lost everything over and over again, he thought of wolfsbane and bullet wounds and above all else, he thought about trust. 

Derek just thought he didn’t want Chris Argent to go cold. 

When Chris looked at him with a hesitating resolve, Derek was already pulling the red and white scarf from around his neck. He looped it over Chris’ head and wrapped it around his shoulders. The scarf had been a Christmas gift and perhaps the softest thing Derek had ever touched. It looked even softer against Chris’ jaw. When Derek tangled his fingers in the scarf and pulled, Chris came in with it. 

He kissed Chris on the mouth, Chris’ own having dropped open in inelegant surprise, and easily slid his tongue inside. The kiss was soft, Chris pliant against Derek’s slow exploration, and the room was screaming around them. The Pack was shouting and whistling, throwing things and laughing so loudly that the parting of Derek and Chris’ lips couldn’t be heard by anyone but them. 

When Chris opened his eyes, he realized he had closed them. When he exhaled a stuttering breath, he realized he had been holding it. When Chris saw the smile on Derek’s face, he realized he wasn’t too old to blush. Because Derek was smiling, small and genuine with a crinkle around his sparkling eyes, and Chris had just kissed him. 

He ducked down into his mug, stepping back and wondering if there was a single thing to say, but Derek beat him there, too.

“Merry Christmas, Chris,” he said, releasing his fingers from the scarf wrapped around Chris’ throat. Chris didn’t get the chance to return the sentiment as Derek then turned away, receiving a multitude of back slaps and congratulations. Isaac and Scott were so overjoyed, they sprang up to hug Chris at the same time, laughing into each of his ears. 

“Go get ‘em!” Scott grinned.

“It’s like I finally have two dads,” Isaac nodded.

“Did anyone get a picture?” Cora cried.

And the festivities went on. There was more gift exchanging, video games and board games being played everywhere, a continuous flow of food and drink into the early morning. Slowly but surely the loft grew less crowded, goodbyes being thrown around. A couple mattresses were pulled out of nowhere to pile blankets and pillows onto the living room floor for overnight guests. A few of the younger wolves were already passed out across the couches. Home Alone was put on the tv and everyone quieted down.

Derek was unplugging every slow cooker, covering every dish and double checking all appliances were turned off when he saw Chris standing alone at the window farthest from the gathered Pack. He had an empty wine glass in one hand and Allison’s silver arrowhead attached to a cord in the other. He still wore Derek’s scarf.

When Derek approached, Chris dropped the cord back into his shirt, the arrowhead necklace a long-ago gift from Isaac. Derek paid no mind and instead took the empty glass from his hand, balancing it on the strip of Christmas lights across the windowsill. They look up at each other, empty handed, in the glowing light.

Derek’s eyes reflect the Christmas lights strung up around them and Chris thinks they’re beautiful. He’s unable to keep his gaze from flicking down to Derek’s mouth. And that was perhaps all the invitation Derek needed, because he then asked, “Stay the night?”

Chris glanced at the Pack pile in the living room with a hum. Isaac was clearly in view, spread across Scott and Malia with his feet twitching towards Stiles’ face. Every inch of surface space was taken up by cuddling ‘wolves and Chris knew he didn’t want to pile on top of them.

“I don’t think- “ 

“You can sleep with me.”

Chris quirked an eyebrow at Derek. Derek lifted an eyebrow right back.

“Just sleep, Argent,” he stated, the barest hint of amusement in his tone. 

Chris looked at the Pack again, thinks about Allison and what his family is now. What his family could possibly become. Under the Christmas tree was a pile of his already-opened presents, each one having had his name on it. Around his neck is the softest scarf he’s ever touched.

“Yeah, okay,” He said.

Once they were upstairs, wearing sweats and covered in thick comforters, their fingers threaded together between them, Chris finally gets to say, “Merry Christmas, Derek.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, how you felt, what color your favorite scarf is! Also, how do you feel about this pairing? I think they have so much potential and I just wanna finally see them both happy. Oh, and, beard love for life. Happy Holidays!


End file.
